Olivier's Weakness
by Etaleah
Summary: After losing countless training spars, Buccaneer begins to wonder if his queen can be defeated and makes it his mission to find out her weakness. What he eventually discovers is most unexpected.


**I'm not really sure about this one. I like the idea but at the same time I also think it's kinda stupid. XP I tried really hard to keep it from being too crude, but it'll probably be rewritten at some point. Please review, I really need the feedback, especially since I plan to write more of these characters. **

"What are women's weaknesses?" Major Miles raised a confused eyebrow at the question. At first he thought Buccaneer was joking, but his face was completely stoic.

He continued, "Everyone knows what a man's weakness is. That's why it's one of the first things our queen goes for when she spars or wrestles with us. But what about women? Surely they must have some weak point." That last line held a tone of frustration. Lately their leader had taken to fighting the soldiers herself in order to train them for combat, and for some reason the captain had yet to learn she fought him more than anyone else. And every time, even though she never fought with her sword or any other weapon, she won. No matter how much Buccaneer tried his best to protect himself, one kick to the groin and he was out.

Miles took a swig of his tea and shrugged. "Why are you asking me? I'm clearly not a woman." Though if he were completely honest, he'd been curious too.

"You're the general's right-hand man. You're by her side day and night. Please Major, you must know something."

Miles grinned, withholding a chuckle. "So you're that desperate to beat our ice queen, huh? I'm not surprised, she even defeated you in arm wrestling."

"She did not! It was a tie!" That came out louder than he'd intended it to, and most of the heads that occupied the mess hall were now turned in his direction. He growled and they quickly returned their attention to their food.

A barely-there smirk played at Mile's lips and Buccaneer thought he detected a gleam in those red eyes. "If that's so, why were you holding your arm and yelling in pain while the general walked away triumphantly?"

"Aw, shut up! You know our queen. The woman's a monster."

"Which is exactly why she doesn't have a weakness."

"Everyone has a weakness. We just have to find hers. I'd say her gender is a good place to start. Women are probably weaker in some areas of the body than men."

"Like what? The only thing she has that we don't is a…well, you know." His cheeks turned a faint pink at the thought.

Buccaneer frowned and rolled his eyes. "Vagina, Major. It's not a bad word. So do you think we could give her a taste of her own medicine?"

"Doubt it. From what I can tell, kicking it still hurts but it doesn't incapacitate women to nearly the same extent."

Buccaneer nodded thoughtfully, chewing on some kind of meat he hadn't been able to identify (he'd learned the hard way that sometimes in Briggs it was better not to ask). "What about her hair? She's got all that hair and it gets in her face. Maybe if we grabbed it and pulled really hard-"

"A dozen soldiers have already tried that," Miles cut him off with a wave of his hand. "It doesn't work. It just pisses her off even more and leaves her opponent in a more vulnerable position."

"I see," Buccaneer murmured. He was grateful the woman in question had other matters to attend to, it was one of the few times he and Miles could talk to each other without her between them. Not that he minded that generally, but it certainly wouldn't have been good for this conversation. "Can't you think of anything else? A sensitive spot? An old injury? _Anything_?"

Miles sighed. "Just forget it, Captain. This is one opponent we just can't beat. Why do you think she's the commander of Briggs?"

"You know, it's almost not fair," Buccaneer grumbled. "She lacks a weak point that nearly every soldier has, and that gives her an advantage."

"Let's just hope she's the only woman we ever have to fight." Miles stood up and took his tray to the kitchen, clearly finished with the conversation.

But Buccaneer could not forget it.

* * *

The bar was smoky and packed as always. It was one of the few places in sleepy North City that offered any entertainment, so on weekends it wasn't unusual for half the town to be there. Every seat was filled and every pool table occupied, and the captain could barely hear himself think over the laughter, songs, and sob stories of the drunken men and women stumbling around.

To the surprise of everyone who knew him, Buccaneer actually wasn't much of a drinker. He supposed he looked it, being the hefty mountain-man type, but he didn't much care for the loose, out-of-control feeling that alcohol gave him. The only reason he was even there was because he'd had to report to Northern Command on behalf of General Armstrong and was waiting out a blizzard before heading back.

"So what's your story?" It took Buccaneer a moment to realize the Xingese-looking man was addressing him. He was a much older man, with a five o'clock shadow and tired eyes. He was sitting next to Buccaneer and leaning over the counter, face resting in his palm. Another hand was stirring a drink. And judging by the sound of his voice and the look in his eyes, it was most certainly not his first drink.

Buccaneer narrowed his eyes. "I don't have one. I'm just here killing time. As soon as this blizzard stops, I'm out of here."

The man nodded slowly. "Judging by your clothing, I take it you're a Briggs soldier?"

"Yeah. I had to report to Northern Command for my commanding officer and I was just about to return when this storm kicked up. And anybody who tries to get to Briggs in the middle of a storm like this, even in a car, is a fool."

"Very true. But you look troubled. Did something go wrong? Other than you're being stranded here, I mean."

"Nah. It actually didn't take as long as I thought it would. It seems Northern Command has beefed up their efficiency some." He eyed the man curiously. "But why are you so interested?" You could never be too cautious, he had learned. While the man's eyes were most definitely Xingese, he also possessed some Drachman traits. And then of course Buccaneer was alone and wearing his full uniform, plus it was easy for an enemy to hide in a crowd like this, so it was entirely possible the man was a spy.

"Oh, just a stranger taking interest in another. I've met some very interesting folks in this bar that way. Most of them had the same look you have, like something's bothering you."

Buccaneer nodded but didn't volunteer any further information. While everyone, at least in the north, surely knew of General Armstrong's reputation, he was not about to admit that he couldn't win a battle against a single woman who wasn't even armed when she fought him.

"It's a woman, isn't it?" the man now had a sly smile on his face. Buccaneer grunted and cursed silently as his cheeks turned pink. He grabbed the man's drink and took a large swig without asking.

"Sort of," he mumbled.

"Ah, I thought so," the man waggled his finger tauntingly. Buccaneer wanted to wipe that silly grin off his face. "She refusing to spread her legs for you?"

Buccaneer coughed into his hand, trying to hide his rapidly blushing face. The thought of his Ice Queen….er, spreading her legs….was not an image he particularly wanted in his head, pleasing though it might have been.

The man laughed good-naturedly and patted his back. "Aw, come on. You can tell me. This old-timer's had his share of rejections. We've all been there, haven't we?" A couple men who were sitting nearby nodded.

"Oh, shut up. It's not like that." He muttered.

"Then what is it? Obviously something went wrong that involved a woman."

Buccaneer growled. He desperately turned his gaze to the window, hoping the blizzard had stopped and he could get the hell out of here. But no, it was still going strong.

"Come on, man, tell us," the men around him egged on. "You're among friends."

With a sigh and a groan, the dejected captain told them about his harsh commander's fighting style and how it was nearly impossible to defeat her in combat, even for a man twice her size. "She always goes for the cheap shot," he spat. "I want to believe she has a weakness somewhere, but I don't know what it is."

"You mean you don't know what a woman's weakness is?" a female voice beside him asked. He turned to see an elderly woman standing next to the Xingese man who'd started the conversation. She was Xingese too, and looked old enough to be his sister.

"So women actually have one?"

"Of course. Well, assuming she really is a woman," she teased. The men laughed, but Buccaneer ignored them. He'd heard that joke before.

"What is it?" he demanded.

She looked over at the man beside her and smiled. "Well, honey? Should we tell him?"

"Please! I have to beat her at least once. My manly pride is at stake here!" Buccaneer hated himself for begging, but if it allowed him to come out on top when wrestling with the general (he winced inside at how that sounded), it would be worth it.

"Go ahead, dear." The man smirked. His wife smiled conspiratorially.

"Now if I tell you this, you've got to promise me you won't use it to hurt other women or take advantage of them. I'm putting a great deal of trust in you with this secret. Alright?"

"Of course." At that point he would have agreed to give the woman five million cenz if she'd asked.

She leaned in and lowered her voice, and he strained to hear her over the background noise. "The female weakness….is boobs."

The captain's face had to be red as a tomato from the way his cheeks were burning. "Excuse me?"

"No, I mean it. Either kick them or, if you really want to do some damage, grab them in your hands and twist them as hard as you can. That'll have her in tears, no matter how tough she is."

"Er…but…I….are you serious?"

"How big are General Armstrong's boobs?" her husband asked.

"Uh…pretty big…I guess." Actually they were the biggest he'd ever seen, but somehow he didn't feel that would be an appropriate description.

"Bigger than that girl's over there?"

"Much bigger."

"Then that'll make it even easier. The bigger they are, the harder they fall. They're like penises that way."

"So remember, if you grab a woman's boobs and she screams, it's not because she likes it!" one of the more drunken men yelled. The bar erupted into cheers and laughter and the poor captain began to feel very uncomfortable.

"I gotta get outta here." Buccaneer shoved his way through the crowd and darted out the door before he could blush again. Blizzard or no blizzard, he had to get out of there. He could not believe the direction that conversation had gone. Were her breasts really the general's weakness? He supposed it made sense, none of the male soldiers had them so it wasn't like they would know, and it was the one place no one dared touch her. But what if he tried kicking them and she absolutely murdered him in cold blood? She never let _anyone _get even close to her breasts, not even female doctors.

He shook his head and pushed the thought out of his mind. "They were probably just messing with me anyway. Those drunken fools."

**Two Weeks Later**

"What's the matter, Captain? Not getting tired already, are you?" Olivier was wearing her trademark smirk (the one that scared war veterans) and seemed to be enjoying herself very much. As usual, there was not a single scratch on her.

Much to his dismay, Buccaneer was panting heavily and he knew he couldn't last much longer. She hadn't managed to land a hit on his manhood yet, but she'd come dangerously close a few times.

_What am I gonna do? _He thought desperately. _I can't lose to her again, that'd be the fourth time this month. There has to be a way. _The soldiers watching them were already whispering that the fight was over. _No, it can't be over. She's got to have-_ Suddenly the events of two weeks prior came rushing back to him. He quickly glanced at his commander and he felt a surge of hope when he saw that her uniform had come unbuttoned and her shirt was exposed. And it wasn't even a turtleneck.

He grinned. It might send him to his grave, but it was worth a shot. "Not even close. You fight like a girl."

Olivier laughed a humorless laugh. "Which is exactly why I'm about to beat you for what must be the hundredth time."

"I wouldn't be so sure," he snarled, still grinning. He beckoned her with his index finger, taunting her. She smirked and rushed toward him. It was rough going for a while, as she was the fastest person he'd ever fought. But he had his plan; he just had to wait for the right moment. He was pleased to see that the more she ran around, the more disheveled her uniform became. Good, that would make things much easier. When he thought she'd gotten enough hits to boost her ego, he stood with his legs spread wide.

She grinned wickedly. "Say goodbye to your balls," she hissed as she ran towards him and brought her leg up to kick him where the sun didn't shine.

_Yes. She took the bait. _Quick as a whip, he caught her foot in his metal crocodile and lifted her up, only to slam her onto the floor. She cried out in pain and he knew he'd taken her by surprise and done some damage when she didn't move for a second. He released her foot and took advantage of her surprise by throwing himself on top of her and quickly pinning her wrists above her head, again using the crocodile as his weapon of choice. He could hear his fellow comrades hooting, but he didn't care how suggestive their position looked. All that mattered at this point was winning.

She struggled, but his combat automail was much stronger. She gritted her teeth and tried to bite him and wiggle out from under him, a sure sign she was getting desperate. Buccaneer grinned. It was quite nice to see her on the losing end for a change.

"Let's see how you like it," he hissed. In a flash his flesh-and-blood hand was inside her shirt and groping. The soldiers gasped and Olivier's blue eyes were wide as saucers. Finally he found a lump of flesh and gripped it hard, then twisted it with all his might.

He had never heard Olivier Armstrong scream so loud. Hell, he hadn't heard her scream period, except out of anger. _It's working! _

"STOP! Stop that right now!"

"Give up?" he asked, excitement and adrenaline zipping through his blood.

"Never!" she growled, struggling more than ever. Buccaneer cursed, then grinned, a light bulb coming on in his head.

"I'm sorry General, I owe you an apology. That wasn't a very civil thing to do."

She looked up at him and blinked in surprise. And in that second, she stopped struggling. That was all he needed. He switched hands in a heartbeat and metal teeth clamped down on her breasts.

"Alright, you win!" she screamed, panic evident in her voice and, to the captain's shock, he thought he even saw tears. Hurrahs and congratulations filled the room. No one had ever managed to defeat General Armstrong in combat before. He slowly climbed off her and basked in the glow of his victory for a moment before offering a hand to help her up. She refused it of course, and glared at him with an intensity he'd never seen before.

"What? I knew you had a weak spot somewhere," he smirked. And because he was feeling confident with his ego fully restored, he added, "I guess you not only fight like a girl, you lose like one too."

Even he had to admit, that kick in the groin was well-deserved.

**I would just like to say the being a female myself, I can testify that yes, a hit to the boobs REALLY HURTS. Especially when they're as big as Olivier's. XD**


End file.
